


Unforeseen

by ylc



Series: Obvious (and yet not) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Companion Piece, Implied Johnlock, Implied Mpreg, Insecurity, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, no need to read the previous fic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8213387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: Surviving an engagement party shouldn't be such a challenge.Companion piece to Unexpected, but no need to have read that before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember I said I was going to write this a lifetime ago? Well, I finally did!  
> In case you didn’t read the previous fic, all you need to know is that Sherlock and John are engaged, since the second is pregnant. Because Sherlock is a Beta, a bit of misunderstandings happened before this, but that’s no longer important in here.  
> Eh… I think that’s all. Enjoy?

Greg stands outside the house for the longest time, just gazing at the front. The term _manor_ comes to mind, because there’s simply no way that this can be considered a house and while he always knew Sherlock’s parents were well off-

Well, he never imagined they were this _well off._

The door opens abruptly, startling him. He turns to stare at the person at the door and John offers him a smirk, before gesturing for him to come in. Greg gulps, looking down at his clothes and considering, once more, to simply leave.

“Come on in,” John urges him, grabbing him by the arm. “If I’m forced to spend another second with just Sherlock’s family for company, I’m going to murder someone and then you’ll have to come in anyway.”

Greg attempts to smile, but fails miserably. Still, he lets John drag him inside the house. “I thought you said you and Sherlock used to be neighbors?” he says, as John continues pulling him towards the garden where, presumably, the engagement party is taking place.

“Yes,” John answers absentmindedly. “This isn’t his parents’ home, obviously. They have a much more smaller house on the outskirts of town, but this is the Holmes state, where all weddings have taken place.” John scrunches his nose in displeasure. “It’s my understanding that while Mr. Holmes inherited the place, Mummy didn’t like the big _stuffy_ house, so they moved-”

“Mummy?”

John blushes madly, biting his lip. “Yes, well… she insisted.” Greg chuckles and the blond glares darkly. “Oh, shut it. Just let me tell her about you and Mycroft and she’ll have you calling her Mummy too by the end of the evening.”

It’s Greg’s turn to glare. “You wouldn’t dare.” When John simply offers him an innocent smile, the older male huffs. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re just friends.”

“Which, considering this is Mycroft we’re talking about, it’s just as good as if you had a baby of your own,” John smiles, patting his belly.

Greg rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He looks around the room they’re currently in and offers John a self depreciating smile. “Come on, John. Just look around you. Why would Mycroft be interested in me?”

John places his hands on his hips, attempting to look intimidating, but that’s quite complicated with his heavy baby bump. “Now listen to me, Greg Lestrade. I’ve known Mycroft Holmes for almost my whole life and I can definitely tell you he’s interested. So don’t you go being all self depreciating just because he happens to be the heir of a rather huge fortune.”

Greg arches an eyebrow and John makes a face. “That didn’t sound as convincing as it did in my head.”

Greg chuckles, throwing an arm around the other male’s shoulders. “Let’s forget about that, why don’t we? We’re supposed to be celebrating your own engagement tonight, after all!”

John nods, now looking a tad anxious. “God, I really wish we could have skipped this,” he murmurs softly, rubbing his belly absentmindedly. “I had forgotten how _awful_ his extended family could be.”

“Surely they’re not that bad?” Greg points out gently. “Can they do the deducting thing too?”

John laughs without humor at that. “Oh, I wish it was that. But no. They’re- well, let’s just say that they’re very old fashioned.”

“Old fashioned as in _how dare you to get pregnant while unbonded?_ ”

John laughs, this one sounding more honest. “Something like that. Along with _why would you go to college if you’re just going to have a bunch of babies and never work?_ and let’s not forget, _there’s no way the baby is actually Sherlock’s._ ”

Oh. That. “Are you okay?”

John sighs, running a hand through his hair. “As well as I can be, really. They haven’t actually dared to say such thing to my or Sherlock’s face, but well- it’s a matter of time, really. I know how they think and of course, they don’t like me. Not only I’m everything an Omega _shouldn’t be,_ but I’m also dirty poor.”

Greg makes a face, patting John’s shoulder awkwardly. “Why have the party, then?”

“Oh, just wait till you meet Mummy,” John replies enigmatically, “she’s a force to be reckoned with.”

Greg doesn’t particularly like how that sounds.

Not at all.

* * *

 

He attempts to stick to John’s side for the duration of the party, but he loses him in the throng of people at some point. He hasn’t seen Sherlock so far, but he assumes the Beta ought to be somewhere, seeing this is his bloody family. Surely he hasn’t left John to handle them all on his own?

John mentioned Mike and Bill are here too, but Greg hasn’t been lucky enough to find them. So he just stands in a corner, sipping his drink and hoping to go unnoticed. So far, it has worked well enough.

“Well, hello there.”

Ah, his luck has just run out. “Hello,” he greets politely, not wishing to be rude, but not wanting to engage in conversation with one of Sherlock’s stuffy family members.

“You must be one of John’s friends.” Greg doesn’t miss the distaste at the mention of John, but he forces himself not to react. He does know when it’s better not to pick up a fight and really, it’s not worth it.

“Yes,” he replies simply, carefully angling his body away from the other man’s. He’s much taller than Greg and much bigger too, but he’s not terribly intimidated. As a police officer he often has to deal with Alphas that think that just because he’s an Omega they can scare him and get him to simply let them go.

He has learned long ago how to deal with Alphas like this. But then, that’s a survival skill for any Omega, regardless of their occupation.

“Do you have a name, gorgeous?” the man asks, placing an arm around his shoulders.

Greg takes a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. He doesn’t appreciate unasked for advances, but he’s not one to get into fights just because. He smiles tightly at the other man, “it’s Greg. And I would greatly appreciate if you kept your paws to yourself.”

The Alpha laughs, pulling away and Greg finds himself breathing easier. Although he’s used to deal with stuff like this, his instincts still urge him to flee when presented with such situation. “Feisty. Not completely unexpected, seeing how John is.”

Greg’s smile feels more than a tad forced, but the other man seems not to notice. “Eberth Holmes,” he introduces himself pleasantly, with what he probably thinks it’s a winning smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

Since he can’t really say the same, Greg keeps quiet. He doesn’t want to be antagonistic really, mostly because he doesn’t want to cause John any trouble, but the blond was right- Sherlock’s family is insufferable.

A tense silence follows and any decent Alpha would have noticed Greg’s lack of interest by now and left him alone, but of course, this isn’t a decent Alpha. “So, are you like John in other aspects to?”

Greg doesn’t care for the implication and he’s losing his patience quickly. He’s about to say something particularly rude and hope the Alpha doesn’t react violently when he feels a hand on his lower back. The contact is warm and oddly calming, and he quickly deflates.

“Eberth, what a pleasure to see you tonight.” Mycroft’s cold and collected tone sends shivers down Greg’s spine and he can’t help to smirk as the other Alpha pales. “After that dreadful… _incident_ at the Parliament, I thought you would be too embarrassed to show your face outside your own home.”

The man lips’ tighten in displeasure, but he forces a polite smile. “I apologise, cousin. I wasn’t aware the Omega was yours.”

Greg opens his mouth to say something, because he’s not anyone’s property, but Mycroft beats him to it. “Gregory is his own person, cousin dear. But since he’s obviously uninterested, I would advise you to leave him alone.”

The other male makes a face, but complies. Greg glares at his retreating back for the longest time, feeling odd. He does appreciate Mycroft’s intervention, of course, but- “I know you could have handled it on your own, Gregory,” the older Holmes says, letting go of him and Greg immediately misses the contact. “But it would have caused quite a scene and my brother and John definitely don’t need that tonight.”

Greg nods tightly, figuring he’s right. “Your family seems like a real nightmare.”

Mycroft’s smile is cold as ice and, once more, Greg feels a shiver down his spine. “That they are,” he replies dispassionately. “Part of the reason why we tend to avoid them.”

“Part of the reason?”

Mycroft smirks. “They hate Mummy too, of course. She’s too- improper, let’s say. And she hates them right back, which is why I guess she organized this party.” When Greg just frowns, the other rolls his eyes good naturedly. “For the longest time, everyone thought that Sherlock and I were going to die with no descendants, which would have meant the family fortune and the state would go to one of my cousins. Now, of course, it’ll go to John’s child.”

“And Sherlock’s,” Greg finds himself pointing out. “You do believe the baby is his, don’t you?”

Mycroft rolls his eyes once more. “Of course,” he replies evenly. “The only thing that baffles me is how I missed it the first time around.” He makes a face, scrunching his nose a little and Greg quickly stops himself from thinking that that’s _adorable._ “It should have been pretty obvious.”

Greg shrugs, privately agreeing. It still baffles him how everyone knew who was John’s baby’s father, but Sherlock and Mycroft. For a couple of genius, they can be terribly dim witted. “Do you mind if I stick to you for the rest of the night?” he finds himself asking and when the Alpha turns to look at him, startled and a tad confused, he fights down a blush. “It’s just- I would prefer to avoid another scene.”

Mycroft smiles then. It’s mostly a twitch of lips, but Greg knows him well enough to notice those things. The idea makes him feel self conscious, remembering his earlier conversation with John. While he and the older Holmes are truly just friends, there’s no denying he would like for them to be more.

Not that it’s ever going to happen, but-

“Naturally, Gregory,” the older male says smoothly, once more placing a hand on the small of his back and Greg forces himself not to smile besottedly. “Come, I’ll show you around. And I’ll introduce you to the less unpleasant family members.”

Judging by Mycroft’s face, Greg isn’t sure he wants to meet the rest of the family.

But it can’t be helped, he guesses.

* * *

 

“Ah, there you are!” John exclaims, coming out of nowhere and grabbing Greg’s wrist tightly, as if he’s holding for dear life. “I was quite worried about you,” he adds, a tad of desperation in his tone and Greg frowns, turning to look at John’s interlocutors.

A man and a woman, both in their early fifties, both Alphas. Siblings, if Greg had to take a guess and not terribly pleasant, seeing John seems quite desperate to be rescued.

It’s odd, Greg thinks, because John is not one to be easily intimidated (but then, choosing a Alpha-dominated profession would do that to you) and yet he seems awfully nervous around these people. Probably because this is Sherlock’s family and while the younger Holmes might not care for his extended family, it wouldn’t do to be too much at odds with them.

Also, Greg does know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong somewhere. And with all these posh people around- well, it’s all too easy to feel self conscious.

“I’m fine,” Greg says calmly, patting John’s hand reassuringly. “I ran into Mycroft, actually,” he adds, figuring the Alpha can play saviour once more. Mycroft however is staring at the other two Alphas in front of him, trying to smile politely, but it looks quite forced.

“Mycroft dear,” the woman says, a smile sharp as knives on her lips. “What a nice surprise to see you here. Your father tells us you’re impossibly busy at London.”

“Evening, Aunt Nicole. Uncle Thomas.” Both Alphas nod in acknowledgement, their eyes flicking from Mycroft to his hand still on Greg’s back. “I am indeed very busy, but I wasn’t about to miss my brother’s engagement party, was I?”

“Quite an event,” the male says, a slight sneer on his face. “I didn’t think the day would come.”

“Your mother must be quite pleased,” the female interrupts. “Even if this looks quite desperate. But then, I guess that when you see none of your children are going to give you any grandchildren, you’ll take whatever comes your way.”

It’s hard to tell who is more indignant at the implication, but before anyone can even _think_ of saying something, another female’s voice interrupts. “Well, Nicole, at least my children were raised well enough to have the decency of not leaving bastards here and there. Which is much more than what I can say of yours.” The older woman smiles politely and the Alpha turns an alarming shade of red. “But then, they had quite an example, didn’t they, Thomas?”

Both siblings are glaring at her now, but the woman simply continues smiling. With a huff, the Alphas turn around and leave, making the female chuckle. “God, those two are awful.” She turns to John then, her smile now sincere. “How did you end up in their paws, darling? I thought you knew better by now.”

“They caught me off guard,” John replies with a shrug. “I’ve been looking for Sherlock all night; where is he?”

“The kitchen,” the female replies easily. “I would say hiding, but he insists he isn’t. He was quite happy when I offered to come looking for you, though.”

John makes a face, but doesn’t comment. The woman then turns to them, her keen eyes quickly taking Greg in and he forces himself not to squirm under the inquisitive stare. “And who’s this young gentleman, Mycroft?” she asks, addressing her older son, but her eyes are still glued to Greg.

“This is Gregory Lestrade, Mummy,” the Alpha introduces him, quickly dropping the hand on his back and Greg misses the contact dearly. “He’s friends with John and Sherlock.”

“And Mycroft,” John supplies helpfully and both Greg and Mycroft turn to glare at him. The Omega offers them an innocent smile, his eyes shining with mischief.

“Ah, the Sergeant Detective,” Mummy says in recognition. Her smile is bright as the sun, her eyes dancing between her son and Greg. “A fine choice, I would say.”

“Mummy-” Mycroft warns, but the woman ignores his tone, grabbing Greg by the arm and pulling him to her.

“Come on now, children. The kitchen is quieter than out here.”

And Greg figures he really has no choice but to go with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone? This won’t be longer than 3 chapters, mostly because this was meant to be part of the first fic, but since it was mostly Mystrade… well, it seemed better this way.  
> I worry it feels a bit forced at points, but I think it works. Of course, I might be a little biased, so…  
> Let me know what you thought?  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but well… hopefully it works?  
> Enjoy?

“You realize you can’t hide in the kitchen forever,” Mummy chides Sherlock as soon as they enter the kitchen and the younger male shrugs absentmindedly, his eyes focused on something he’s reading. John glares at him and that seems to be enough to gather his attention, for he immediately looks up. The couple share a silent conversation that consists mostly of narrowed and rolled eyes and finally, Sherlock sighs, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs apologetically and that seems enough to calm John’s ire. At least for the moment, that is.

“You left poor John all on his own with that awful people!” Mummy exclaims dramatically and Sherlock turns to glare at her. Mycroft decides that an strategic retreat might be for the best; dealing with the rest of the extended family ought to be easier than this, but-

“It was your idea to organize the party!” Sherlock argues back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “As far as I’m concerned, we could have avoided all this mess. It’s not like I care about  _ their  _ opinions on my choice of groom.”

“He’s got a point, dear,” Father says calmly, gazing through the window at the on going party. “You’re the one who insisted we invited them. As far as I’m concerned, we can all hide in here until everyone leaves.”

Mummy places her hands on her hips, making everyone in the room, including Gregory, gulp. Funny how he has just met her and he already knows Mummy is not to be messed up with. “None of that now. Did you really expect me to miss the chance to rub into their faces that I’m going to be a grandma?” she says and Father offers her a small smile. Sherlock rolls his eyes once more, going to stand next to John and gathering the blond into his arms. Mummy smiles gently at them, “besides, we needed to get rid of that awful wine the Ambassador sent Mycroft.”

“It might even be poisoned,” Mycroft points out, “the American Ambassador dislikes me greatly, after all.”

Mummy smiles, patting his arm. Gregory sends an amused glance in his direction, which he promptly hurries to ignore: after all, it wouldn’t do to alert Mummy of his ridiculous  _ infatuation.  _ She might already suspect something thanks to John’s  _ innocent  _ comment, but well… he might still manage to escape this night without much embarrassment.

“I don’t think we’d be so lucky,” his father murmurs darkly then and Mummy laughs brightly. Sherlock cracks a smile and John chuckles good naturedly, leaning into his brother’s embrace.

God, do they need to be so… sickeningly sweet?

“Well, I guess we can hide for a little while,” Mummy concedes finally, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “Now, Detective Sergeant, please tell me about yourself.”

Gregory pales a little at that and John sniggers. Sherlock looks amused and sends an smug smile in his direction, which makes Mycroft glare. Those two- don’t they see how horribly this could turn out?

“Mummy-” he begins, wondering if there’s some way to distract his mother. Of course, once she has decided she wants to know something, she’s like a dog with a bone, but he can’t help hoping-

“Shh, now,” she shushes him, making his brother and his fiancé break down into giggles. Father sends him an apologetic smile, but doesn’t attempt to intervene. “I want to know everything.”

“I-” Gregory begins, obviously nervous. “There’s not really much to tell,” he says, pulling at his clothes self consciously. If the situation wasn’t quite as desperate, Mycroft would find the display adorable, but being things what they are-

Well, they have a long night ahead from them, don’t they?

* * *

 

John’s and Sherlock’s behaviour is completely deplorable, both acting like the teenagers they still are (or at least, they are in Mycroft’s eyes), giving Mummy all sort of ideas about his relationship with Gregory. The poor man is blushing madly, but of course his mother is not about to spare him of the continual embarrassment.

“Surely we ought to reappear back to the party?” Mycroft says finally, after Gregory sends yet another desperate look in this direction. Mummy rolls her eyes at him, smiling brightly. 

“You can go back to it of course, darling,” she says amusedly, grabbing Gregory’s wrist and forcing him to sit down once more, since the male was getting ready to run away with Mycroft (no- wait. That didn’t sound- oh god, better not to think much about that.) “I think we’ll stay here a little longer.”

Mycroft takes a deep breath, considering his options. On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with his extended family. On the other, he refuses to continue to be submitted to this completely ridiculous and unnecessary… charade.

He smiles tightly and exits the room, much to Gregory’s apparent horror. The Omega sends a betrayed look in his direction, but promptly turns his attention resignedly back to Mummy. Mycroft sighs, telling himself it’s for the best.

He doesn’t appreciate what Mummy is doing, not one bit. It’s true he’s… fond of Gregory and he does find him attractive, but nothing is ever going to happen. Just because Sherlock has somehow managed to make his own apparently hopeless relationship work, it doesn’t mean Mycroft is about to do something as foolish as to attempt a romantic relationship.

It’d never work. He’s just- he’s not adequately equipped to deal with this stuff, so it’s pointless to try. It’ll end up in nothing but tragedy and he really _ really  _ can’t afford to be distracted by inconvenient  _ feelings. _

Besides, Mummy now has the grandchild she always wanted, why can’t she get off his case? He’s perfectly fine on his own, really. Unlike his little brother, he has never had any desire to  _ bond  _ with someone, he’s perfectly content being alone, his happiness not depending on anyone.

But-

No, those are dangerous thoughts and it won’t do to entertain them. He’s not reckless enough to try something he knows the odds of it working are impossibly low. Better for things to stay this way.

Besides, (and he recognizes this is an incredibly selfish and unfair thought, but he can’t help it) Gregory doesn’t seem inclined to marry, or even have an actual relationship, so it’s not like he’ll ever have to go through the pain of thinking of  _ what ifs  _ and silly regrets. The Sergeant will remain happily single and so will Mycroft and they’ll continue with their… association.

All was working perfectly fine and now-

Well, he just hopes Gregory doesn’t get any crazy ideas. He seems like a  _ sensible  _ fellow, not prone to letting  _ gossip  _ interfere with his own opinions, but well-

Mummy can be terribly convincing.

Oh dear god, this won’t end well, will it?

* * *

 

“You abandoned me,” Gregory accuses dramatically later, having found Mycroft hiding inside the house. “You abandoned me to my fate, knowing there’d be no chance of escape.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Gregory,” Mycroft chides, even as he feels the corner of his lips lifting. “My mother is- well, it was a gentler fate than being left alone with the rest of the family, trust me.”

The Omega rolls his eyes, amused. “I’d be inclined to agree with you, but at least your cousins have just attempted to  _ seduce  _ me, while your mother-”

“Cousins?”

Gregory rolls his eyes once more. “I ran into a couple more of them while attempting to find you.” He scrunches his nose in displeasure and Mycroft’s inner Alpha is pleased at the obvious dislike. “Whoever told them they were charming, really?”

Mycroft chuckles, happy at Gregory’s lack of interest in any of his cousins. He knows they’re annoying and self centered, but a few of them are actually quite attractive. “They can be terribly self conceited.”

The other snorts, amused. “A little over their heads, if you ask me.” He smiles at him and Mycroft tells his silly heart to stop beating so erratically. “I would appreciate if you helped to keep them away from me, though. I mean, I can handle it myself pretty well, but I swear that if someone pinches my ass once more-”

Mycroft lets out a growl, surprising even himself.  _ Possessiveness  _ is, allegedly, a very  _ Alpha  _ trait, but he has never displayed such characteristic. But then, every other... partner he has ever had, wasn’t really such thing. It was usually a mutually beneficial arrangement that involved no feelings for either party.

Oh, this is bad. Very bad. “I apologise for that,” he murmurs, avoiding Gregory’s all too knowing eyes. 

The Omega shrugs, looking decidedly uncomfortable now. Mycroft curses his lack of self control, but figures that dragging attention to his behavior and apologise again will just make things even more awkward.

God, how did this happen?

“Anyway, I meant to tell you I managed to escape your mother by promising her to find you and drag you to the dance floor for at least one dance so… shall we?”

Mycroft doesn’t answer right away, feeling out of his deep. On one hand, he’s relieved Gregory seems willing to ignore his little slip, but on the other hand- he knows these things aren’t quite as easily ignored. He can pretend it never happened, but like with open wounds, if these  _ feelings  _ go unrevised, they’ll turn into a festering wound.

He can’t afford all this sentiment. What’s more, he doesn’t want to. Alone is what he has, alone is what protects him. He’s not nearly as naive as Sherlock to believe that  _ love _ is actually a thing to be treasured. 

Still- “One dance only,” he warns and the Sergeant laughs good naturedly.

“One dance,” he agrees, grabbing him by the wrist and Mycroft hurries to pretend there are not butterflies causing a mess in his insides. Gregory’s hand is warm and oh-so-very soft and he wants-  _ he wants. _

But he can’t.

* * *

 

Mummy is watching delightedly as John and Sherlock dance. The couple looks a little stiff and nervous at the beginning, obviously not appreciating being put on the spotlight, but they endure. Both know it’s simply foolish to attempt to reason with Mummy.

Mrs. Watson is talking in hushed tones with his mother, both women looking terribly delighted. John’s mother certainly never approved of her son even being friends with Sherlock, but she has warmth to the idea of them becoming family. Mummy has seen to that, knowing just how difficult a relationship can be when the other family members don’t approve.

Not that she and Father had particularly cared, but-

Better like this.

He turns to look at Gregory, who’s standing next to him. There’s a soft, wistful smile on the Omega’s lips and Mycroft’s heart stops in his chest. Gregory has never striken him like the romantic kind, but the current evidence might suggest-

As other couples start joining the dance, Gregory’s eyes find his and Mycroft gulps, his throat suddenly feeling too dry. He attempts to smile, but it’s his  _ business smile  _ and of course the police officer notices it. The younger male frowns, tilting his head to the side and looking…  _ adorable  _ really and Mycroft realizes he’d be hard pressed to deny him anything if he ever looked at him like that again.

Oh, this is bad. Very, very bad.

“Shall we?” Gregory questions lightly, head still tilted. He looks nervous and perhaps a tad scared and Mycroft shares the sentiment: this is beyond nerve wracking. 

He squares his shoulders, telling himself he has survived worse and a dance can’t be that bad. He nods tightly, earning himself another frown, which he promptly ignores and instead pulls the Omega towards the dance floor. He doesn’t miss Mummy’s delighted smile, not her whispering into Father’s ear, but he ignores her. There’s nothing going on here, no matter what the rest of his family might come to think, mostly because he won’t allow for anything to happen.

Gregory fits marvelously between his arms, though and despite his awkwardness (is obvious he never took any dance lessons), the male follows his steps more or less easily, at least managing not to step on his toes. Gregory offers him a shy smile, looking up at him, head slightly tilted in a submissive position and god, isn’t he glad for his ironclad self control?

Despite they’re outside and the weather is mild and mostly pleasant, Mycroft suddenly feels too hot. He knows why’s that, of course, and while he knows he ought to step away now, before he does or says something embarrassing, he finds himself incapable of. His eyes remain fixed on his partner’s and then drop to his lips. Gregory licks his lips in a half nervous gesture and it takes every bit of his self control not to lean down and kiss him.

Mercifully, the song ends and Mycroft hurries to pull away, trying not to look like he’s escaping. Gregory looks confused for a beat and then quietly resigned. He smiles a little sadly and then looks away, pointedly ignoring him.

The image sits ill with Mycroft, but before he can think of something to say, one of his cousins has come and swept Gregory in her arms. The female is telling him something, which makes him frown and then she says something else, making the Sergeant chuckle. Mycroft closes his eyes and steps away from the dance floor, telling himself it’s for the best.

In any case, none of his cousins would ever even  _ consider  _ marrying someone from outside their social circle and so even if Gregory ends up getting charmed by one of them, it’ll go nowhere.

It’s selfish and cruel and unfair and he doesn’t care.

* * *

 

“You’re an idiot,” Sherlock informs him, appearing out of thin air. Mycroft arches an eyebrow, realizing John is nowhere in sight and he sighs.

“You should keep an eye on your fiancé; the poor man doesn’t need another run into one of our uncles or aunts.” He takes a sip from his drink, making a face. The American Ambassador truly hates him and even if he didn’t give him poisoned wine, this tastes just as badly.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “John is fine; he’s with his friends, scandalizing our whole extended family while at it.” He smirks and it’s Mycroft’s turn to roll his eyes, even if he must admit he does find the idea amusing.

“Dancing with Dr. Sawyer, is he?”

“Yep,” Sherlock answers easily. “Cousins Mariel and Julianne are having trouble trying to decide who ought to take your Omega home for the night, by the way. I’m guessing Aunt Nicole will be horrified, but I guess that as long as they don’t knock him up-”

Mycroft realizes he’s growling, but finds himself incapable of stopping. Sherlock offers him a smirk and he shakes his head, annoyed at himself. “If Gregory chooses to leave with either of them, that’s none of my concern.”

His little brother sighs, looking actually upset for a second. “He’s a nice man, Mycroft. And god knows why, but he likes you and you obviously like him very much, so why-?”

“Sentimentality doesn’t suit you, brother dear,” he interrupts him smoothly, finishing his drink in one gulp, trying to wash off the nasty taste his earlier words have left. “Not all of us can be as lucky as you.”

Sherlock remains quiet after that, a slight smile on his lips. “Certainly,” he agrees after a while, “but if you give it a chance- you won’t regret it, Mycroft.”

Oh, but he will. “Go back to your fiancé, Sherlock.”

With a sigh, his brother obeys, leaving him with only his dark thoughts for company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone? This story is attempting to run away from me and turn into a monster of a fic, but I’m attempting to control it. You see, the whole thing was just supposed to take place during the engagement party and end up happily, but as you can see… that might not be possible. We’ll see how next chapter goes, but this might turn slightly longer than 3 chapters… or not end happily, perhaps. Huh.  
> Oh well… let me know what you thought, pretty please?  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! It’s a bit on the short side, but I really didn’t know what else to write in this chapter, so…  
> Enjoy?

Attempting to escape Mycroft’s cousins is proving to be more than a tad problematic and Greg is seriously considering stopping with the  _ being polite  _ nonsense. Still, he really doesn’t want to cause a scene and so he’s still attempting to come up with polite ways to let them know that  _ no, he’s most definitely not interested. _

He’s half hoping Mycroft will come to his rescue once more, but he has little hope for that. After their dance, the air had been filled with tension between them; quite  _ unpleasant  _ tension and to be honest, he had been a little relieved to get pulled into another dance before he could do or say something foolish.

Something foolish like confessing his frankly ridiculous, not to mention hopeless,  _ crush. _

A crush, dammit! He’s nearly thirty now, he’s way too old for silly crushes. He’s no longer an awkward teenager with far too many hormones and too little common sense. He knows better than to continue  _ pining  _ after a man so obviously out of his reach.

And yet-

Sometimes he thinks his one-sided  _ feelings  _ aren’t as one-sided as he believes. Tonight, after surviving Mrs. Holmes’ interrogation and listening to all the apparently unrelated, unimportant incidents Sherlock and John had been retelling, he had been almost certain-

But he does know that sometimes wishful thinking is just that and that indulging in unsubstantiated hope is just plain madness.

Lost in his dark thoughts, he fails to realize that Mycroft’s cousins have, apparently, reached an understanding. He smiles tightly, figuring now is really the time to state  _ he’s really not interested _ but just then Sherlock finally appears.

One quick glance over has both females scattering in a hurry and Greg chuckles, amused. He does know how unpleasant it can be to have the younger male sputtering embarrassing observations and to be honest, he pities the poor soul that upsets him enough for him to do just that.

He’s quite glad the younger male decided to come into his rescue, though.

“My brother is a self sabotaging idiot,” Sherlock states without preamble, making Greg reconsider his previous thoughts. “God knows you could do a hundred times better, but you seem pretty set on this and you’re- agreeable enough, so I figured I should help.” He makes a face, scrunching his nose. “Or rather, John thinks I should help because, apparently, it’s my brotherly duty.”

“Sherlock, you really-”

“He’s never going to make a move, because obvious as your  _ infatuation  _ might be, he’s just as hopeless as myself when it comes to  _ sentiment.  _ You, on the other hand, are probably a little wiser on the subject, although not by much, considering you have decided to develop a crush on my brother in the first place, but that’s hardly the point.”

“What is your point?” Greg asks warily, already knowing he’s going to regret even asking.

Sherlock narrows his eyes, glaring darkly at him and making him gulp audibly. “Talk to him. He’s probably going to try to resist, but I’m confident-”

“Sherlock, I’m not about to- beg your brother for something. If he’d rather not get involved-”

“Oh, keep up Lestrade! Weren’t you listening when I said he’s a self sabotaging idiot? He doesn’t know what’s best for him.” He smirks then, amused by something. “Funny, that’s what he used to say about me. And now I’m beginning to understand why he likes meddling in my affairs so much.”

Greg rolls his eyes. “It’s still his decision. I don’t-”

“Oh, please just put us all out of our misery and just tell the damn man! I assure you once you actually tell him what you feel-” he gestures vaguely and Greg arches an eyebrow, amused. “Trust me, it’ll work.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving a slightly confused and very wrong-footed Greg behind.

* * *

 

Greg considers the merits of Sherlock’s words for what feels like a lifetime, all the while hiding in the kitchen. Thankfully, Mrs. Holmes is nowhere to be seen, probably still busy talking to John’s mother. That’s good, because right now he doesn’t think he could handle someone else hinting that he should get together with Mycroft.

The notion is ridiculous, really. The man is just so- aloof all the time, so detached from everything that it seems nearly impossible that he could be interested in  _ something _ . Greg is well aware of his many charms, thank you very much, but he’s also painfully aware of his shortcomings: he’s not the marrying type, heck; he’s not even the  _ dating _ type.

He wouldn’t know what to do in an actual relationship. In the past, he had always run away when things started to get too serious, not wanting to get tied up to anyone. As he grew older and it became apparent that any partner he got was thinking of something long term, Greg had decided to stop bothering with dating, telling himself he was fine on his own.

And he is, really. Just- well, he does like Mycroft. But he can’t imagine anything serious ever coming out of that; they’re just too different. And as for something short term- well.

The idea sits ill with him. It’s one thing to be silently pining for someone you’ll never have, it’s an entirely different one to be pining for someone you had and lost. Their relationship will never work and to give it a try-

It’s sheer madness.

But- and that’s really the issue, isn’t it?- he wants to give it a try. It’s crazy and it’ll most definitely won’t end well for him, but he’s enough of a masochist to  _ want it  _ apparently and that’s- that’s-

Oh, he’s really considering it, isn’t he? But what is he supposed to do, really? Go to Mycroft and tell him he happens to have the hugest crush in the history of humankind on him?

Yeah, Mycroft would probably not take that well.

“You seem troubled, Mr. Lestrade.”

Greg nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden interruption, so lost in his own despairing thoughts he was. Mr. Holmes offers him a kind smile, passing him a cup of tea he has just poured.

“Thank you,” Greg murmurs softly, his stomach choosing that exact moment to remind him he hasn’t eaten a single bite since that morning. He blushes furiously, but Mr. Holmes just smiles before producing a piece of cake out of the fridge.

“You’ll find the whole family has a bit of a sweet tooth,” he tells him, cutting a piece for himself. “Violet had a cake commissioned for the party, but she made another just for us.”

“It seems a bit- I just don’t understand why have a party when you all obviously dislike your extended family.”

Mr. Holmes smiles mischievously. “That’s Violet for you: always looking for ways to annoy the people she dislikes, never mind the inconvenience it might cause her.” He takes a seat in front of Greg, chewing on his cake thoughtfully. “I suppose someone has already told you, but it’s a very effective way to rub into all of their faces that none of them will be getting the house or the family fortune now.”

Greg nods, shrugging. “Still, it feels a bit unnecessary.”

The older male nods. “It is, but- I suspect she has another reason.” He looks sad and thoughtful for a beat and Greg can’t help to frown a little. “Sherlock always was- difficult. Far too bright for his own sake and without an appropriate filter, so he always had trouble socializing. No one, including myself, I’m ashamed to admit, ever thought he would find a friend, let alone a Mate.”

“He and John met when they were children, though. Or that’s what John told me, in any case.”

Mr. Holmes nods once more, a small smile on his face. “They did. Sherlock had just turned seven and he was having... trouble at school. John was- he was his saviour, in more ways than one.” His smile widens a little, growing wistful. “Sherlock was quite enamoured from the beginning, but my Violet- well, she was even more enamoured with the idea of her little boy finally finding someone.”

Greg can’t help the fond smile on his lips and the older male smiles back, taking a small sip from his cup. “When Sherlock turned out to be a Beta, it was hard to tell who was more heartbroken about it; he or his mother. All hope seemed lost then and Violet was- she was truly worried about him. She constantly worried about the day when John would find himself a nice Alpha and leave our boy on his own.”

“And now that’s never gonna happen,” Greg says and Mr. Holmes offers him a bright smile.

“And now that’s never gonna happen,” he agrees. “I guess she’s entitled to a bit of celebration. And if she could do that while also angering my family- all for the best.”

Greg laughs at that. “They’re quite a match- John and Sherlock, I mean. I thought that before I even actually met your son and now- it’s easy to see they were made for each other.”

Mr. Holmes nods and for a long while, they simply sit together, drinking their teas in companionable silence. “You’re right, of course, but there was a time when everyone, including them both, thought it was never going to work,” the older man says suddenly, his tone solemn and  _ knowing.  _

Crap. He really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “Mr. Holmes-”

“Mycroft is a lot like his brother, even though he’ll never admit it. But my older son hasn’t found someone that shows him that being alone isn’t truly the answer.” Greg keeps his eyes fixed on his by now empty cup, biting his lip gently. “You seem like a good man, Mr. Lestrade and I have no doubt you’d be good for my son, but you should know- he’s going to be difficult.”

Greg laughs, a tad hysterically, perhaps. “I don’t- I don’t think-”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, Mr. Lestrade,” Mr. Holmes interrupts him gently, “the matters of the heart are not to be thought; they’re to be  _ felt.” _

And just what can he say to that?

* * *

 

“Oh.”

Greg looks over his shoulder, offering Mycroft a small smile. The other male hesitates for a beat, before stepping closer to him, his face a perfect blank mask.

Once more, Greg asks himself if this is a good idea. “Your father said the view from here was quite something. I have to agree,” he says, avoiding the other’s eyes. The room they’re in is practically surrounded by windows that go from floor to ceiling, the view being the extensive and well cared garden that is currently decorated with beautiful lights. Although there’s still quite a few people around, the place is so big that it gives the impression it’s nearly empty now.

“I used to spend hours in here,” Mycroft comments. “I found the view- soothing, I guess. Even now, I sometimes come here to think.”

“This place will be yours, won’t it?” Greg attempts to sound nonchalant, but he fails miserably. He’s nervous and he’s still half convinced he really has no business pursuing someone like Mycroft, but-

“Technically, yes. But I have no plans of ever moving here.”

“Not even if you marry and have a bunch of children?”

Mycroft huffs, unamused. “That’s not among my plans,” he tells him and Greg smiles a bit.

“I don’t want children either,” he confesses softly. “It was quite a deal breaker in a lot of my previous relationships, not that I was particularly invested in them.” He shrugs non committedly. “I work long and weird hours; it wouldn’t be fair to put a child through that.”

Mycroft nods and while Greg still isn’t facing him, he can feel his wariness. “I admire your commitment to your work.”

Greg laughs and hopes it doesn’t sound quite hysterical. “I’ve been told I’m a bit of a workaholic, actually. But you probably work crazy hours too and I know there are a lot of things you can’t actually discuss-”

“Gregory-”

“-and I wouldn’t pry, I swear, I do know how it is. It’s probably impossible to keep secrets from you, but you should know I’m not really the  _ talkative  _ kind so I keep a lot of things to myself. I’m also- I’m not a very traditional Omega, although based on what I’ve seen that’s not really an issue here-”

“Gregory!” Mycroft interrupts his slightly desperate ramble and Greg bites his lip harshly. His nerves are getting the best of him and if he just keeps on babbling everything that comes to his mind- “why are you telling me this?”

Greg gulps, gathering his courage. It still seems crazy to him he’s willing to try this, but if he’s honest with himself, he’s been wanting to do it for a long while and was simply waiting for the perfect excuse, so he places his hands on Mycroft’s shoulders, stands on the tips of his toes and kisses the man square on the mouth.

He’s not certain what he exactly expected to happen, but it was definitely something. What he gets instead is Mycroft standing very still, completely unresponsive.

He pulls away immediately, feeling more than a tad mortified. Oh god what has he just done?

“Tonight’s events seem to have- confused you, Gregory,” Mycroft tells him coldly and Greg’s heart drops to his feet. “I understand my family can be quite persuasive however and so I would suggest- if you’re amenable of course- that we forget all about this nonsense.”

Greg nods tightly, his heart beating madly inside his chest, his cheeks burning. He knew it was a bad idea, he knew- “Excuse me, I think it’s time I leave.”

“Gregory-”

“Goodnight, Mycroft.”

And with that he hurries out of the room and the house, never once looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… thoughts anyone?  
> In my original plan, the one that was actually 3 chapters long, this last conversation didn’t end like that. In fact, they actually had a conversation about it, like the adults they are and figured things out. But because I might like drama too much… well, this happened.  
> Not sure how many more chapter this will end up being, but I don’t think it’ll be over 5. Just long enough so I can give it a happy ending ;)  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s a new chapter! I was planning on writing a more of it, but decided the next scene worked better from Greg’s POV so… here we are.  
> Enjoy?

Mycroft keeps his gaze fixed outside the window, refusing to give into his silly impulse of chasing after Gregory. It’s for the best, really. Things will never work between them and to indulge in a silly fantasy-

Well, it’d be pure madness.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, itching for a drink. Every nerve in his body is  _ demanding  _ he stops this attempt of remaining emotionless and goes after his- 

His what, exactly?

It’s all Mummy’s fault, really. And Sherlock’s and John’s, probably. What were they thinking, planting all those dangerous ideas into Gregory’s mind? They were doing  _ fine,  _ better than fine even. Things were running smoothly between them, their relationship strictly professional. So what if he occasionally daydreamed of what it would be like to kiss the other man or hug him or just hold his hand really? It was nobody’s business but his.

And now everything has been lost. The Sergeant will be too embarrassed to agree to see him anytime soon, possibly too mortified to even want to talk to him on the phone. He scrunches his nose, frustrated at himself as he recalls the feel of Gregory’s lips against his: it had been barely a brush and he had had to exercise every inch of his self control to not return the kiss, but he knows the memory will haunt him forever. If only-

If only what? He couldn’t allow himself to melt into the kiss. A taste would have never been enough, he would have wanted more and more and- no. Better to cut this nonsense short, before it had the chance to turn into something far more dangerous.

Perhaps, given enough time, the Sergeant will forget of this little slip and they’ll go back to the way things were. Doubtful, of course, but he can’t do anything but hope. The other option is simply not acceptable; to lose the other man so completely-

No, he doesn’t think he could abide the lost.

Blasted party and blasted interfering family members! Why couldn’t they just simply let the matter alone? Why can’t Mummy content herself with the son-in-law she has already secured and leave him well alone? He’s fine on his own, he doesn’t want-

He’s not lonely.  _ He’s not.  _ He has chosen the life he’s living, he’s content with it, why is it so hard to understand? It’s not perfect, of course and he does occasionally crave some company, but-

Now he has lost the closest thing he had to a  _ friend. _

God, what a mess.

Perhaps he could have attempted to soften the blow a little. Let Gregory down gently. But he had panicked, his emotions intervening with his rational thoughts and so he had pushed the other away, afraid of losing his self control.

He’s been a  _ fool. _ Oh, why didn’t he plan for this eventuality? He should have-

“Keep frowning like that and you’ll have more lines than I do in a couple of years.”

Mycroft sighs, resting his forehead against the cold window. He’s tired, really and he wants to go home, but he knows that attempting to escape the party now would be a terribly unadvisable move.

“Is everything alright?” his father asks gently, passing him a glass of wine and Mycroft drinks it in just one gulp. The older male frowns, but doesn’t comment, silently passing his own glass to his son.

“Gregory left,” he murmurs, taking a much more measured sip from his glass. “He- we- I’m not sure what happened.”

His father twists his lips unhappily, but doesn’t press for more. Mycroft is thankful for his father’s quiet nature; he doesn’t think he could handle Mummy’s interrogation right now. Still, he knows not to underestimate the older man: he might have a gentler approach than Mummy, but he’s just as strong headed as she is.

“Sergeant Lestrade seems like a good man,” his father says after a while, staring outside the window too. “Not someone dear Grandmother Holmes would have approved of certainly, but then, she never saw people’s true worth.”

Mycroft smiles, nodding once. Gregory is perfect honestly and that’s exactly why he should stay away. It would never work. “Why, exactly, are you so scared?” his father questions gently and Mycroft holds back a groan, knowing that he’s not going to escape until he has answered all the questions Father wants to ask.

“It’s not- I- I don’t think it would be wise to pursue a relationship with him,” Mycroft murmurs, toying with his half empty glass. “Caring is not an advantage.”

His father sighs, shaking his head. “It’s difficult, being alone,” he says quietly, looking sad. “You try to convince yourself you’re fine like that, that you don’t need or  _ want  _ someone but- you never quite manage, do you?”

“My job-”

“Oh, I know it’s dangerous and… difficult. But so is Sergeant Lestrade’s, I imagine, and I think he would understand better than anyone else. You could build something worth having, son.”

Mycroft smiles self deprecatingly. “I’m not what he deserves.”

His father actually laughs at that. “Love has nothing to do with deserving, Mycroft. That’s not how it works.” His smile is wistful, his eyes fixed on something in the garden. “Look at your brother. Have you ever seen him happier?”

Mycroft’s eyes land on his brother and although this far he can’t exactly see the expression on his face, he’s fairly certain he looks beyond happy. “No,” he murmurs, a small smile on his lips. “But then, he thought his feelings were hopeless for so long.”

The older Alpha nods, turning to look at him. “Exactly,” he squeezes his shoulder softly, encouragingly. “Love isn’t easy, but if it was, it wouldn’t be worth having. Don’t let your fear of being hurt hold you back, Mycroft. It might not work and it’ll hurt it that’s the case, but if you don’t at least try… you’ll regret it your whole life.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving Mycroft alone with his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

His father’s words continue ringing in his ears for the next following days, but he keeps discarding them as fanciful ideas. He has always thought  _ sentiment  _ to be bothersome, something someone as  _ brilliant  _ as himself shouldn’t have to bother with. Now is really not the time to change his mind.

But as the day for his brother’s wedding approaches, he finds himself rethinking all his previous beliefs. Sherlock throws nasty glares in his direction whenever he happens to visit, which is of course nothing new and neither is John joining him. But the Omega behaves even more coldly towards him, glaring daggers at him at any given opportunity and so Mycroft deduces Gregory has already told them what happened at the engagement party. He knows he ought to try to make amends, but he’s not sure of what he can do or say without giving out his true feelings. Better to wait for a little longer, better to-

“You’re ruining my marriage,” Sherlock announces dramatically, plopping on the chair in front of his desk. He can see half of his security personnel hurrying into the room, actually planning to drag the younger male out, puzzled at how he even got past them, but Mycroft simply waves them away, gesturing for his assistant to close the door. Sherlock smirks briefly, before going back to glaring at him.

“What are you doing here, Sherlock?” he questions tiredly, readying himself for an undoubtedly unpleasant visit. Sherlock knows better than to disturb him at work though, unless it’s a life or death matter, so...

“You’re ruining my marriage,” Sherlock repeats, pouting stubbornly.

“You’re not even married yet,” Mycroft points out, crossing his arms in front of his chest just as stubbornly, stopping himself from telling his brother he ruined his  _ whatever  _ with Gregory first.

“Exactly!” his little brother exclaims dramatically, standing up abruptly. “I’m not even married yet and you have already managed to ruin it for me!”

“And how exactly have I accomplished that?” Mycroft asks darkly.

“John spends most nights out of the apartment, trying to console  _ your  _ Omega.”

Mycroft growls. “Gregory isn’t my  _ anything,  _ Sherlock.”

“No, because you’re an idiot!” his brother exclaims, starting to pace around the room. “And I wouldn’t care, not one bit, except you’re managing to mess  _ my relationship  _ up and so I demand you to stop this nonsense!”

“No, you stop this nonsense!” Mycroft yells, his self control finally snapping. “If you and John hadn’t insisted on behaving so  _ childishly  _ at the party-”

“Oh, spare me of your bullshit!” Sherlock argues, coming to stand right in front of him. “We were trying to help! God knows you would never make a move on your own!”

“Hasn’t it occurred you maybe I didn’t want anything to change?” he demands, standing up too so his baby brother isn’t hovering over him. “Didn’t it occur you I was perfectly happy with the way things were?”

Sherlock huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Please. You wouldn’t know what happiness is even if it slapped you in the face. Which is why I agreed to play along with John’s plan.”

Of course it had been John’s idea all along. And of course Sherlock had gone along with it, because when has he been able to deny him anything?

“Get out,” Mycroft orders darkly, angry beyond words. There are many things he has always let Sherlock get away with, but this won’t be one of them. This is _his_ _life_ and his brother shouldn’t-

“It isn’t so nice when you’re on the other side, is it?” Sherlock questions, ignoring his command. “But as you’ve always told me, brother mine, sometimes one has to take drastic measures  _ for the greater good.” _

Mycroft growls, losing the last of his self control. “It’s not the same, Sherlock!” he yells and his brother actually seems surprised by his outburst, taking a couple of steps back, so there’s some distance between them. 

For the longest time, neither of them speak, Mycroft perfectly aware of his uneven breathing and of Sherlock’s wary look. “It’s not indeed,” the younger male finally says, once more stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder gently. “Doesn’t mean it’s any less important.”

“Sherlock-”

“Just give it a try, Mycroft.  _ Sentiment  _ is… dangerous and can be very hurtful, I’ll give you that, but it’s infinitely worth it.”

Mycroft closes his eyes and his brother sighs. He hears Sherlock leaving the room, softly closing the door behind him despite his frustration. Mycroft takes a deep breath and collapses back on his chair, eyes still closed.

Good Lord, what did he do to deserve this?

 

* * *

 

The CCTV records aren’t meant to be used like this and Mycroft is well aware it could be considered an invasion of privacy and therefore a bit creepy and  _ not good, _ but to be honest, it’s not the first time he has done it. Besides, he has gotten so used to this method of- interaction, should he call it? that he can no longer imagining using other methods to gather insight on his family’s and  _ friend’s _ lives.

Of course actually  _ talking  _ to them is completely out of the question.

And so he finds himself gazing longingly at Gregory’s figure as the Sergeant leaves the Yard, looking bone tired. His clothes are a mess and he has grown a bit of stubble, which suggests he has been working on a difficult case and has barely left the office. Of course Mycroft has people who would inform him if the man run into any serious trouble or if he landed himself in a difficult or dangerous situation, but he doesn’t know  _ everything, all the time, _ no matter what Sherlock says.

He taps his fingers against his desk, considering. Now is probably not the best of times to attempt to contact the man, but he finds himself reluctant to keep on waiting. The wedding is, after all, in just a couple of days and so he and the Sergeant are very likely to run into each other and he wouldn’t want to cause an…  _ unpleasant  _ scene at his brother’s wedding (Mummy would kill him, of course, if John didn’t get to him first)

He picks up his phone and dials the number. He realizes he’s getting a bit light headed and promptly forces himself to take a deep breath. This is ridiculous, really, he shouldn’t get so worked up over-

On the screen, he watches Gregory taking his phone out of his coat and staring at the screen for what feels like a lifetime. The camera’s resolution is rather crappy, so he can’t see the other man’s face clearly, but he gets the gist of what he’s thinking based on his body language.

He toys with the phone for a while, letting the call go unanswered. Mycroft bites his lip and wonders if he ought to have called from another number and promptly dismisses the idea: it wouldn’t be right to deny Gregory the chance of choosing not to answer him, but-

The Sergeant places his phone back in his coat and looks upwards at the sky, a mighty frown on his face, visible despite the low resolution. With a sigh, Mycroft hangs up, linking his fingers beneath his chin, thinking about his next move.

It seems he’s going to need a more…  _ hands on  _ approach if he wants to succeed on reestablishing communication with Sergeant Detective Gregory Lestrade. He sighs defeatedly, steeling himself for what is to come.

After all, just because he doesn’t like  _ leg work  _ it doesn’t mean he’s incapable of doing it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… thoughts anyone? I worry Sherlock might seem a bit OOC, but my reasoning is that he’s a younger,  _ happier _ Sherlock, who met John when he was far younger and he’s also happily in love and engaged, so… yeah, not sure if it makes sense, but that’s what I’m thinking.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s the last chapter! I’m terribly sorry for the late update, but I had a pretty hectic week since I switched jobs and I’m attempting to move and I’m also working on some school project so… I’m sorry.  
> Enjoy?

Greg sighs, leaning his back against the cold wall. He can still hear the music pounding from within the club and he winces, wondering just what was he thinking when he agreed to tag along with John’s friends for the much more “private" engagement party. He does understand the reasoning behind it, but he's not really the partying type and so one engagement party should have been his limit.

Besides, if one considers how the last party ended for him…

He groans, letting the back of his head hit the wall. He's been carefully avoiding even  _ thinking _ about his little…  _ whatever  _ with Mycroft. He's more embarrassed than anything, really. He should have known better than to let himself be influenced by other people's opinions; things with Mycroft were working  _ fine,  _ he should have kept his silly  _ feelings  _ to himself.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair, feeling sad and despondent. He considers going back into the club, but he's really not in the mood for it. Besides, John and Sherlock are being disgustingly affectionate and he can't stand any more PDA. He'll have to arrest them for public indecency, if they continue like that (mostly because he's feeling bitter, but he’s not about to admit that)

He supposes he could simply leave. Text John and tell him something had come up at work. It's not like he’ll be missed, anyway.

His mind made up, he heads towards the street so he can catch a cab, but his heart stops when he catches sight of the black sedan parked at the corner. His eyes dart towards the club's door and considers making a run for it. But that would be childish: he's too old to act that immature. He's an adult and he’ll face his problems instead of running from them.

So, after taking a deep breath, he makes his way to the car.

He stops before reaching for the car’s door, his heart beating madly inside his chest. He recalls Mycroft’s last attempt of communication and wonders if he should have just answered the call and saved himself the embarrassment of having this conversation face to face. But it's too late for regrets, he imagines, and while he could simply walk away now…

Well. Better to get this over with already. Like a bandaid, he should just tore it off. Besides, the sooner they clear the air between them, the sooner they can get back to the way things were.

And Greg desperately wants that. He  _ likes  _ Mycroft and while things will never turn to something else, he can't imagine renouncing to have him in his life altogether.

He yanks the door open and regrets it immediately. He wishes he could behave like a level headed adult, but well… it seems right now that’s beyond him. He offers Mycroft an embarrassed smile and slides on the seat in front of him, his heart still beating madly in his chest, his cheeks flushed.

Neither speaks for the longest time and Greg frowns, wondering what the other man is waiting for.  Mycroft has never been one to dally, so he’s a little lost of what this unnerving silence means.

“I-” they both begin at the exact same time and promptly interrupt themselves. Greg feels himself blushing and quickly tells himself to stop behaving like a teenager and address the matter at hand. “I want to apologise for what happened the other night,” he begins, feeling more confident with each word leaving his lips. “I should have known better than to listen to everyone.”

Mycroft nods briefly, biting his lip. He looks- torn and Greg frowns, not knowing what else to add.

“I should probably apologize too,” the Alpha says after what feels like a lifetime and Greg’s heart stops in his chest. It seems ridiculous to still feel hopeful after everything, but- “My response to your-” he pauses, biting his lip viciously and Greg can’t help gulping, now knowing exactly how those lips feel beneath his. “I probably should have reacted better.”

Greg shrugs, non committedly. “A perfectly understandable response, really. I shouldn’t have presumed-”

“No, you didn’t- I mean, I-” he continues chewing on his lip and Greg forces himself to look away, fearing he’ll do something foolish otherwise. “I must admit it was a course of action I had long been considering myself. When you did it though-”

“Wait, what?” Greg questions, suddenly feeling wrong footed, his heartbeat picking up speed, everything he thought he knew challenged by this new information. “What do you mean?”

Mycroft takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, not looking directly at Greg but instead staring at a point right above his head. “I should probably start from the beginning,” he says quietly, almost reluctantly. “I should tell you then that I’m most- infatuated with you, Detective Sergeant Gregory Lestrade.”

Greg stares at him, his brain freezing. When he finally manages to speak again only one word leaves his lips, but it sums up his confusion pretty well, “what?”

* * *

 

Mycroft makes a face, displeased at how this conversation is going. He wasn’t- he wasn’t planning on confessing, really. Hadn’t he already decided he was simply going to apologise and beg for them to put this whole distressing situation behind them? Yes, that was exactly what he had planned to do and yet-

Well, here he is, confessing the secret he had sworn to himself to take to his grave.

“What the bloody hell do you mean, Mycroft?” Gregory demands, apparently having come down from his momentary confusion. Mycroft flinches at the obvious anger in his tone and wonders why the man has such power over him. He has faced ruthless politicians, dangerous assassins and dealt with all sort of dictators and criminals and yet-

“When you kissed me the other night- it took every bit of my self control not to kiss you back,” he confesses softly, staring at his hands as if they held all the answers in the world. “I don’t- I didn’t think I was interested in a relationship, Gregory.”

The Omega nods quietly, looking thoughtful. “And now?”

Mycroft sighs. “To be completely honest, I’m not sure. I didn’t come here tonight with the intention of- telling you any of this. I thought- I just wanted things to go back to the way they were; I’ve missed you Gregory. And it sounds ridiculous, I know, because we see each other very rarely and when we talk on the phone it’s never more than a couple of sentences, but somehow- somehow you have entwined yourself in my life in some irrevocable way and to think- losing you, losing your companionship, even those little crumbs- it seems unbearable.”

Greg doesn’t answer right way, simply continues staring, blinking every couple of seconds or so. Mycroft waits in silence, holding his breath without meaning to, wondering what this might mean for them and for him and everything he believes in.

“So you- you don’t want- you just want us to be…  _ friends? _ ” the other male offers and Mycroft scrunches his nose a little.

“No,” he deadpans and then thinks better of it. “Yes. I don’t- I don’t know?” he offers finally and Gregory scoffs, evidently frustrated.

“Mycroft-”

“This isn’t easy for me, Gregory. I never thought- I never wanted- I was happy alone. And then I met you and I’m still perfectly content with being alone but sometimes- sometimes you make me wonder if I could- if I would want something else.”

Gregory looks oddly moved and Mycroft gulps nervously. “I never wanted someone else either,” he murmurs softly. “I- I’m happy being on my own. And I do understand my lifestyle isn’t really compatible with a family life, but I don’t think that’s what you’d be offering really.” He smiles hesitantly and Mycroft can feel his heartbeat speeding up. “But I do need you to be sure you want this. Whatever  _ this  _ might be.”

“Gregory-”

The other male silences him with a look and Mycroft bites his lip to stop himself from saying something. “We’ll need to establish some ground rules, of course, but we can figure out together where we want this to go. No pressure to define it just yet, though.”

Mycroft watches him in silence, thinking. He’s not one to make reckless decisions, he always thinks things through. And yet- “I feel I must warn you it won’t be easy,” he says slowly, “I excel at many things, but relationships is the one subject that’s a bit… obscure to me. I have no experience whatsoever to draw upon and I- I’m not sure I’m a very wise choice of partner, but I shall endeavour-”

“Mycroft,” Gregory interrupts him, sliding closer to him and Mycroft finds himself with his back pressed against the door, his heart attempting to escape his chest. Gregory looks positively predatory and he can feel all his blood leaving his brain and heading downwards. “Stop thinking,” the Omega murmurs, pressing his lips against the shell of his ear and Mycroft feels a shiver running down his spine. 

Well, in this case, he thinks he’ll heed that advice.

* * *

 

“Where’s Greg?” John questions at some point and Sherlock places his arms firmly around his fiancé, making sure he has a tight hold of him before revealing the scene he hopes is unfolding inside his brother’s car (he noticed it parked outside the club about an hour ago and he noticed Lestrade leaving too, but he had decided to keep quiet, at least for the time being.)

“With my brother,” Sherlock answers simply, attempting to steal a kiss and hopefully distract John from his murdering impulses.

“What?!” the shorter male demands, attempting to stand up and the taller male tightens his hold around his waist. “Let me go! I understand he’s your brother, but I swear to God I’m bloody murdering him!” he manages to escape and Sherlock hurries after him, attempting to soothe him.

“John- John-!”

But his fiancé has already made his way out of the club and to the car, yanking the car’s door open and startling both of the occupants.

Both of the very  _ ocupied  _ occupants.

“Oh,” John murmurs, as Mycroft sends a glare in his direction and Greg chuckles amusedly. “You sorted it out then?”

“You could say that,” Greg says lightly, smiling brightly at him, “and if you don’t mind, could you close the door and let us go back to what we were doing?”

John nods numbly, hurrying to do just that. He turns to look at Sherlock, who’s sporting the horrified look that every younger sibling has when they have just discovered their older sibling has a sex life.

“Well, that’s- good for them, I guess.”

Sherlock makes a face and John giggles, pulling him into a kiss. “Come on, let’s go back to the party.”

Sherlock nods eagerly, slipping an arm around his fiancé’s waist, smiling to himself.

All as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts anyone? It feels a bit… rushed, I fear, but it works somewhat. I just didn’t want to keep on dragging things on, but I fear now it feels like too… easily resolved. I don’t know.  
> Anyway, please let me know what you thought? As usual, it’s been a pleasure to work on this and get to share it with you guys!  
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so any mistakes you find, please point them out! Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!  
> You can also find me in [tumblr](http://ylc1.tumblr.com/)


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